


Free Square- "Captivity"- Clint Barton (MCU) and Steve Rogers (MCU)

by AnaliseGrey



Series: Analisegrey's Birthday Whump Bingo Challenge 2018 [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (though that doesn't come up in this particular story), Alternate Universe - BDSM, Analisegrey's Birthday Whump Bingo Challenge 2018, Captivity, Clint whump, M/M, Predicament Bondage, Rescue, Whump, stress position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 11:16:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaliseGrey/pseuds/AnaliseGrey
Summary: For square #25, the free square in my Birthday whump bingo challengeI chose 'captivity' for this square :)





	Free Square- "Captivity"- Clint Barton (MCU) and Steve Rogers (MCU)

Ok, this looked bad.

  
Clint shifted the small amount his restraints allowed, licked his lips, and continued to mutter the words to The Wall, having already sung his way through his regular karaoke repertoire. He thought he’d been here a couple of days so far, but without windows or a regular schedule, it was difficult to tell; he’d been floating in and out of consciousness for the last little while which also made it hard to tell. Shifting again to ease the strain on his shoulders, he decided he shouldn’t have bitten that one guy’s finger off the first day in; people held grudges about shit like that. In retribution they’d worked him over pretty good; he thought under his clothes he might be the same color as the chevron on his uniform. They’d put him in a stress position in his cell, down on the cold cement, with the collar they’d locked onto him on a very short chain to the floor in front of him, bending him over in half on his knees. They’d put rigid metal cuffs on his wrists behind him and attached those to a pulley in the ceiling, yanking them up at a sharp angle. His knees were killing him and he couldn’t feel his toes anymore, but he was pretty sure that if he straightened his legs out behind him, the relief he’d feel would be short-lived, because the change in height would dislocate his shoulders. He was looking to avoid that if he could.  
  
Clint paused, feeling a change in the air, and tried not to tense up. They’d taken his hearing aids from him as soon as they realized what they were, and he was doing his best not to panic, but he was facing away from the door, and until someone walked into his line of sight, touched him, or spoke loud enough to register, he couldn’t be sure they were there. Coming down from hyperawareness if-  _ when _ , his mind insisted,  _ when-  _ he got rescued was going to be a bitch and a half.  
  
There was a buzzing sound, which meant someone was talking, but he couldn’t tell which direction it was coming from. As he tried to turn his head to where he thought the person was, a hand landed gently on his upper arm and Clint jumped, willfully suppressing the pained groan that wanted to slip from his mouth. A moment later, Steve appeared in front of him, kneeling down and ducking his head so Clint could see more of him. Steve said something, but it wasn’t loud enough for him to catch, and Clint couldn’t clearly see Steve’s lips with the angle he was at.  
  
“Don’t know what you’re saying, Cap. No ears and I can’t see your mouth.”  
  
Steve held up a finger, then dug around in one of the compartments on his belt and pulled out, much to Clint’s relief, a spare set of hearing aids. Steve reached out slowly and tapped Clint’s jaw, and Clint nodded tiredly, grateful in a way he’d never be able to explain that Steve was thoughtful enough to ask permission, even if he knew Clint’s answer would likely be yes.   
  
Steve carefully slid the aids into Clint’s ears and flicked them on, dropping his hands for a moment to flutter around Clint’s shoulders before going carefully to the collar locked around Clint’s throat. There was a bit of movement Clint couldn’t see, a small jerk, and then the sound of the lock meeting a quick end. Steve slid the collar from around Clint’s neck, and helped get Clint back upright, easing the strain on Clint’s shoulders and allowing him to lean forward and sag against Steve’s chest.  
  
Clint felt Steve move a little, and murmur into his comms, then bring his arms up to help support more of Clint’s weight.  
  
“Widow will be here in a moment to help get the cuffs off of you. Will you be ok til then, or do you need me to get them off now?”  
  
Clint shook his head against the front of Steve’s uniform; now that Steve had him, it was like his brain and body realized they were safe and didn’t feel the need to hang around anymore. He tried to tell Steve he was ok, but even with his hearing aids in, Steve’s voice sounded liked it was coming from a distance, and before he knew it, he was out.  
  
***  
  
Clint came awake slowly, consciousness creeping back in wisps and bits of information. Comfortable bed, but also comfy sheets, and a lot bigger than he would expect for medical, which meant the Stark medical floor, not SHIELD’s. No beeping, so no heart monitors, but he was also pretty sure his hearing aids weren’t in, so he might be missing it if it were turned low. There was the slight pull of an IV needle in his hand, and he still had a dull ache in his wrists and shoulders from the cuffs, but none of the inherent fuzziness of mind that came with the really good drugs, so he thought he was mostly ok.   
  
Letting his eyes crack open, he was thankful for the dimmed lights. Off to the side of his bed was Steve, slumped sideways in one of the large, comfortable chairs Tony had them use in the Stark medical suite instead of the tiny evil plastic ones usually found in hospitals. His eyes were closed, breath deep and regular, and he looked so peaceful Clint was tempted not to wake him, but knew if he didn’t he’d catch hell for it later.  
  
“Hey Steve.”  
  
Steve jolted awake at the sound of Clint’s voice, eyes blinking owlishly for a moment before settling on Clint, a smile lighting up his face.  
  
Steve tapped lightly at his ear and raised his eyebrows in question. Clint nodded, and Steve reached over to the bedside table and snagged the small purple case sitting on top. He handed the case to Clint, and Clint popped it open, fishing out his hearing aids from inside. He slipped them in his ears, wiggling them til they sat right, and flicked them on.  
  
“Hey yourself, doll.”  
  
Clint smiled despite himself. He and Steve were still in mild disagreement about that nickname; Clint had to agree it was growing on him, but it wasn’t like he was about to tell  _ Steve  _ that.  
  
Steve lightly cupped the side of Clint’s face with one big hand, and Clint closed his eyes, leaning into it and nuzzling at Steve’s palm.  
  
“You had us worried, Clint.”  
  
Clint cracked an eye open and peered up at Steve. “It’s not like I got captured on purpose, you know.”  
  
Steve’s smile widened. “Yeah, I know. You’re just a magnet for trouble, though, I don’t know what we’re gonna do with you.”  
  
Clint let his eye slide closed again, leaning back into his pillows. Blindly, he reached up and snagged Steve’s wrist and started tugging.  
  
“What are you doing?” Steve’s voice was amused.  
  
“I thought it was obvious. Lie down, Steve, there’s plenty of room. And the bed is better than the chair is, and you know it.”  
  
There was a huff of a laugh, and then Steve was gently moving Clint over (and  _ wow _ , even in the condition he was in, Clint could appreciate Steve’s ability to manhandle him like it was nothing). Steve climbed up on the bed, careful not to put any weight on Clint, letting Clint snuggle up against him once he was settled. Clint rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, Steve’s arm coming up and around his shoulders. With the warm, solid weight of Steve around him, Clint let himself drift back off into a safe, dreamless sleep.


End file.
